I have been away from my blog for a few weeks now. I would love to tell you that I was off completing my great American novel or making the next Oscar winning film But to quote Jules, "We both now that s*** ain't true." What I have been doing is surviving. It's that plain and simple.
In November 2010 my dad had a liver transplant. I still remember the morning he got the call. He wasn't sure he wanted to do it. As we drove to the hospital he even said half jokingly "We should turn the car around." I told him to do that if it was truly what he desired. In that moment though, I wanted him to get the transplant. I thought that this was the way I got to keep him for another twenty years.
I won't go into too many detail but my dad 5 surgeries in the next three or so weeks (including another transplant). I was still trying to work 45 hours a week and when I wasn't at work I was usually at the hospital. I slept maybe four or five hours a night. My life revolved around my dad and his health. My phone was never out of sight and usually on my person. It was my life line to the most important man in my life. Or as my best friend Amy said, the love of my life.
On the morning of December 23rd I was sleeping when I received the call from my mom. She told me that they were in with my dad. I needed to get to the hospital. It was 6AM. I stumbled around in the dark, called my sister, and was in the car in less than 5 minutes. I live right outside of Louisville, KY. The hospital was a 40 minute drive on most days. It felt like hours that morning. I was less than ten minutes away when the phone rang again. It was mom again. She told me he was gone. I screamed No into the phone repeatedly. I had always made fun of such moment in films (i.e. Stars Wars). What I realize now is when you are told something that catastrophic you brain goes into instant denial. It couldn't be true.
I don't remember hanging up with my mom but I did. I called my uncle (mom's brother) and told him. It would be the beginning of many dreadful phone calls I would make that day. I really think that one of the worst things a person can do is have to inform someone that their sibling has passed. My dad had eight living siblings, it felt neverending. With each call I would have to break the news and then explain what little details we had at that moment. It was horrible.
Since dad died I struggle daily with missing him. I worry about my mother and sisters constantly. I'm working about 45 hours a week at a job that is demanding. So right now I am surviving. I refuse to say I'm broken...I'm just a little bruised.